Sunday, 29 December 2013

Contemplation: Better: the Devil you know...

[Disclaimer: The views herein expressed by the quirky brunette are not necessarily FACT per se but are my perceptionand should be taken with a very large pinch of salt 75% of the time. My perception is oft warped. But that's why I write this blog, to maintain a little platform for aforementioned warped perception, lest it blows even more out of proportion and my head explodes.]

Dear friends of the
quirky brunette (I know you’re out there and I love you for reading this
little brain-explosion aka blog of mine)

Hello to you.

I’d like to open today's Contemplation with a clip from a film that I class as a
guilty pleasure. Yes, that veritable paragon of film-making known as: Kindergarten Cop.

Recently, I’ve had the sneaking suspicion that that little lad
Dominic has crept into my psyche and has taken
up residence there, as I become increasingly aware of my shortcomings.

Of which
there are many.

I gots skillz, I’m not denying that.

Amongst my accomplishments I list (in the manner of a Bennet
sister in Pride and Prejudice):
writing, piano-playing, photography, swimming, long-distance walking and
singing. And badge-making.

I can also spel gud, and right grammer, and punk chew
ayshun! do I use.

{via Pinterest}

(I cannot net a purse nor cover a screen, but then I do live
in the 21st century. And am cack-handed.)

Trouble is, in everything I do, I am constantly aware
of someone who is so much better than
I am at it. And for those things in which I’m generally solid, such as
spelling, grammar and punctuation, well, what are they truly worth in the grand scheme of things, beyond being valuable
tools in my day-job, of course? Here’s a clue: not much.

If I were to assess all of my alleged skills and keep up only those in which I consider I have a chance of excelling or at least being nurtured to
excel in, well, I’ll be honest, I’d have very little left:

Most published authors are
better writers than me.*

Concert pianists (and let’s face it, most people) are better piano-players than me, including this child:

{Watch from 1m 50}

Rankin. MartinParr. OliviaBee. RosieHardy. My university friend RayGumbley (who doesn't have a website that I can find but is superb -- trust me on that). All
better photographers than me.

Anyone who’s ever been asked to sing solo in either of my choirs is a better
singer than me.

(And I’m not sure badge-making is a skill per se but
I’m sure there are people who are better than me at that as well.)

* Actually, er, I am a
published author of children’s books, and I have won a prize for this book in the
past:

{Winner of the 2004 Booktrust Early Years Book Award, I thank you...}

But that was rather a long time ago...

This is the problem with coming to the conclusion that actually you are fairly mediocre really.

Either society holds up to you and duly validates the achievements of people who are better than you or -- as is more often the case -- you (and your inner Dominic) scour your own spheres for those people and perceive them as thus, until some
kind soul validates your abilities otherwise.

Still, the same supplement is decreeing Eleanor Catton's The Luminaries as "clever and capacious" -- I personally found her first novel, The Rehearsal, too obscure. But then there are others far cleverer than me who know better (that word again!) and I haven't even read the book nor have I written a Booker Prize-winner at the age of 28, so I should probably pipe down, shouldn't I? Yep.

And when did I start taking up pastimes in the (vain) hope
of excelling at them?

Why can’t I just swim/sing/walk distances/play the piano/write and enjoy all these things without feeling
as though I need some benchmark of accomplishment to make them worth my while?

So many questions.

Maybe, just maybe, better is a relative value anyway. Maybe
I should just focus my efforts on being the best that I can be at anything, rather than better than anyone else (at the risk of verging on paraphrasing the One Tree Hill theme song...).

{via Pinterest}

It's not about pitching ourselves against others, it's about pitching against ourselves.

Pushing ourselves to go further.

Not exactly radical thinking, I know, but maybe I can come
around to it nonetheless. Hopefully in time to make some valuable New Year's Resolutions.